A Demon's Fate
by FairyTale87
Summary: Damon and Klaus are sadistic, dangerous, and fatally alluring vampires who have been terrorizing humans for centuries, and are the best known horror legend. When their next destination is Mystic Falls, can a mere girl change the icy demon? READ WARNING.
1. Sweet Dreams

_Everybody's looking for something:__  
><em>_Some of them want to use you.__Some of them want to get used by you.__  
><em>_Some of them want to abuse you.__Some of them want to be abused_.

-Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

Her breathing was heavy. The dense forest seemed like a living hell under the black sky and thick fog, but the girl would not stop. Evil, she knew, was not far behind. She had been told stories as a girl, of the dark demons of the night: their relentless hunt for the warm sticky blood of humanity, willing to do anything for it. The ancient legends depict these devils as speciously beautiful, lethal and seductive; a haunting death sentence if you were to catch their icy stare. The demons loomed in her mind, raping her dreams until they morphed into constant nightmares. The girl knew now, that they were hunting her. She felt it in her blood; she felt it in the shutter of the wind. Evil was stalking her; waiting thirstily for their hit of warm terrified blood. Tears began to stream down her face, lacing with her horrified sweat. She would not see the light of the morning, and she knew it very well. She picked up her running pace in a final attempt at life.

"Going somewhere?" A steely voice said from behind her. The girl froze, her eyes widening to their full capacity. Her body began to shake as her skin tingled with goose-bumps. Clenching her eyes together tightly, tears streamed down her pale face.

"Please," she choked out quietly, knowing it would do no good. Her worst fears were becoming reality.

"Oh, lovely, there is no need to be afraid; it's only a little prick," a silkily seductive voice said from in front of her. As he stepped closer, his piercing blue eyes locked with hers. A calculating smirk crept onto his lips, and he softly stroked her cheek; but allowed his jagged nails to drag excruciatingly down the skin, letting the sick pleasure of having her young flesh under his nails sink into his bloodthirsty body. He inhaled deeply, his eyelids fluttering with the adrenaline of the hunt. Pulling her long blond hair away from her neck, he gazed thirstily at her throbbing veins. Taking his pointer finger, he traced the spidery blue lines of beauty, feeling his teeth elongating.

"Please don't," she cried feebly. Her jaw tightened, as she anticipated the immense pain the two demons could deliver. Clenching her fists to the point where her knuckles were white, she felt her nails breaking the skin of her palm, and the bits of blood begin to trickle down her wrist. The devil behind her yanked her wrist towards him, and licked the blood away, as his razor teeth scraped across her palm. The hand twitched at the pain, until the vampire slapped it numb.

"If you are going to kill me, please just do it!" She finally gave in with a pitiful cry. An icy chuckle came from the vampire in front of her.

"Nobody likes a quitter," he whispered into her ear. His freezing breath on her skin sent her into another set of trembles. She shook her head violently, hoping for god knows what. Hoping it would make them go away; praying it would stop her from feeling the pain. No matter what the shaking of the head was meant for, the vampire in front of her grabbed her jaw sharply, pulling agonizingly at the left side of it, and her head ceased to move. The demon's icy features froze her body in fear and awe; with her form so tense, her breathing became a shallow whoosh against the eerie silence of the forest.

"So young," the vampire whispered lustfully, clenching the girl's jaw tighter; to the dangerous point of it shattering completely. Biting her lower lip, she squinted her eyes, trying not to let the immense pain affect her.

"So innocent," the vampire behind her whispered, wedded to her in covetousness. He began to trace the curves of her torso, feeling her blood pump with unwanted yet undeniable pleasure. Feeling her back arch and her head begin to fall back, he dug the side of his thumb nails into her soft milky skin. His hands and body began to tingle with satisfaction as her body shuttered at the unwarranted and lustful pain. Her body began to sway from the stress of her current situation, and the vampire grasping her chin knew it was time to pounce. As her head rolled to the side exposing her thick blue veins, Damon plunged his antsy fangs into her neck. The girl's eyes shot open wide and a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

"Pl- plea-"the girl begged, but soon she lost too much blood for logical words to come from her mouth. As Damon drank greedily, the other vampire gazed at the many pumping veins in her wrist, licking his lips with desire. Klaus lashed at the girl's wrist, too greedy to silence her screams. The poor prisoner's breathing became sporadic, until it was only a dim memory and the body became cold. For a moment or so longer, the two demons kept sucking, but soon there was nothing left inside of the young girl but death. Klaus let go of her wrist and the girl's hand hung there limply, completely ravaged. Damon too released his fangs from the victim, and shoved her to the ground, finally shattering her jawbone as he did so. A dark snicker came from Damon's lips, as he stared down at his butchered victim. Her hazy eyes stared up at them, the look of agonized shock forever painted on her soft features. Damon wiped his mouth and blinked hard to return his face back to its fatal beauty.

"When did we ever decide that you were to get the neck, Damon?" Klaus asked as he approached Damon. Klaus's playful eyes and dimples danced with furtive evilness, hidden so speciously by his innocent features.

"You had it last night, so it was only fair…" Damon taunted, a smirk curling its way onto his flawless lips. Being the elder of the two gave Damon an unwritten superiority that Klaus grudgingly but dutifully obeyed. Seeing the distaste creep into Klaus's eyes, Damon continued, "Oh, not to worry, the next human will be all yours." He slapped Klaus on the back with a crippling smack, and continued past him, and in the direction of the clearing. Klaus laughed in delight at the prospect of the next victim being totally his, and followed after Damon with a resurrected eagerness.

* * *

><p>"Tell me a scary story, Jeremy!" An eleven year old Elena begged. Crossing her legs and hitting the bed softly, her big brown eyes gazed pleadingly at her older brother. Elena seemed to hold her breath, waiting desperately for Jeremy's response.<p>

"A scary story," Jeremy taunted, "right before bed? I don't know, Elena…" a playful smirk danced across the elder Gilbert's face, enjoying leading his sister right into his mischievous trap.

"Mommy and Daddy aren't home, and I promise I won't be scared," Elena replied, holding out her pinky for Jeremy to lock his with. An eager smile formed on Elena's face, and Jeremy knew he had her.

"You have to promise you won't tell Mom and Dad," Jeremy replied, linking his pinky with Elena's, "do you promise?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I promise Jer!" Elena bounced excitedly on her bed waiting for Jeremy to start his story. Elena's brother had always had a knack for winding a beautiful tale for the eager ear.

"Okay then," Jeremy said with a content smile. "Once upon a time-"

"No, you can't start it with 'once upon a time', Jeremy! That is for Cinderella. This is a scary story, silly," Elena laughed. Jeremy shook his head at his sister, but obeyed her wishes.

"Alright then. A long time ago during the Roman Empire there was a boy named Damon. He was the son of a very powerful general, and always got what he wanted. One day, when Damon got home, his father presented him with a slave; captured from the savage Britannia."

"A slave? Aw, that wasn't nice! Why would someone want that?" Elena's eyes widened with disbelief, and she crossed her arms, shaking her head. Her curly mass of brown hair flung in every which direction.

"In those times, Elena, it was normal for families like Damon's to have slaves," Jeremy explained gently.

"Okay, but it's still mean," Elena insisted.

"Yeah, I know; but shh and listen, okay?" Elena nodded at Jeremy.

"So, Damon, and his slave Klaus began to become closer. Klaus was loyal to Damon in all ways a man could hope for. Damon was his idol, and strived to please his master any way that he could. Though Damon loved having an admirer, he tried not to use Klaus for reasons other than the basics: like clothing, cleaning, you know what I mean. But then on the eve of Damon's twentieth birthday, a horrible plague broke out."

"What's a plague?" Elena asked, tilting her head to the side. Jeremy explained to her that it was an epidemic of a disease.

"Anyways, while lots of people died, including Damon's father and family, the sickness had a different effect on Damon. Elena, you know what a vampire is, right?"

"Yeah, it's a monster that sucks people's blood," Elena said proudly.

"Pretty much. But they are also very powerful and fast; and immortal. Damon, as the legend goes, was the first vampire ever. Once Damon became a vampire, he turned Klaus into one too, since they had become friends."

"This isn't really a scary story, Jeremy," Elena said softly, trying not to upset her brother.

"Well this part isn't supposed to be. It's what they did after they became vampires that is the sick part. Well, as you know, vampires feed on blood. Damon and Klaus didn't just suck people's blood though. They turned it into a game; a wicked hunt. They would torture their victims before they sucked his or her blood."

"What did they do to them, Jer?" Elena's eyes darted back and forth, impatiently waiting for Jeremy to tell her all the gruesome details.

"There have been stories of them ripping off limbs, and breaking bones, and tearing their victim's skin to shreds. And the creepy part is they lure you into the woods so deep, that when you try to call for help, no one can hear you. And sometimes, if you scream too much, they'll suffocate you." Jeremy's voice dropped into a spooky taunt, and watched as his sister shuttered.

"Oh geez, Jer, that's awful! What kind of person would do that?" Elena's once gleeful face was now frantic with fear.

"Aw, come on, Elena, it's only a story." Jeremy rubbed his sister's back softly, beginning to regret ever telling his eleven year old sister this story.

"But what if Damon tries to kill me while I sleep?" Elena reached for her teddy bear and clutched it to her chest, fighting fearful tears threatening to fall.

"That only happens in movies, Elena. You're safe in your bed." A soft smile came over Jeremy's face, and he pulled his younger sister into his arms.

"You promise?" Elena looked up at Jeremy with watery eyes.

"Pinky promise," Jeremy said, putting out his pinky for Elena. The young girl giggled and locked their pinkies. Though her brother's words were comforting to her, Elena couldn't shake the instinctive feeling that things would not be okay.

"Get some rest, okay?" Jeremy whispered, "Mom and Dad will be home soon." Elena nodded and wiggled out of Jeremy's hug, cuddling into her bed. Jeremy whispered goodnight to his sister before turning out the lights and exiting the room. As Elena slowly drifted out of reality and into the depths of her mind, a silkily seductive voice echoed in her head, whispering the soft lullaby of _sweet dreams…_

* * *

><p>Alright, so I had this idea, and had to write it. I know I already have another story in progress (Caught In a Fading Daydream) but this was just stuck in my head. So obviously, this chapter was just to get the back story of Damon and Klaus and how Elena was first introduced to the two vampires, but I promise much more exciting chapters later. As a warning, there will be dark themes and Dark!Damon. For right now that warning will be for violence, language, and dark imaginations. If anyone has any questions about the plotline, characters, or has an idea, please feel free to PM me! I will respond as soon as I can!<p>

**Remember, reviews are love, people!**


	2. Snow White Queen

_I can't save your life, though nothing I bleed for is more tormenting.__  
><em>_I'm losing my mind and you just stand there and stare as my world divides._

_You belong to me, my Snow White Queen.__  
><em>_There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.__  
><em>_Soon I know you'll see, you're just like me.__  
><em>_Don't scream anymore my love, 'cause all I want is you._

-Snow White Queen

"Jeremy," Isobel greeted flatly as her son dragged his sleepy body down the stairs. "What did you tell Elena last night?" Isobel's eyes caught Jeremy in invisible chains, giving him no way to avoid his mother's question.

"What do you mean?" The thirteen year old replied cautiously. Jeremy wasn't about to admit to something he may not be in trouble for.

"Last night. You had to have told Elena _something. _The entire morning her eyes have been glued to the computer."

"So? Last time I checked that wasn't against house rules." Jeremy crossed his arms, a sense of relief creeping its way into his tight muscles.

"Jeremy," Isobel bit out, "Elena's been researching vampires; and very gruesome ones at that. She is eleven years old, Jeremy; she should not be looking at those sorts of things."

"Just tell her to get off the computer." Isobel's son returned blandly.

"I did. But that doesn't let you off the hook. Jer," Isobel's voice softened, "just tell me what you told her." A small smile formed on her face, but the look of silent desperation was still very prominent in her eyes.

"Why do you assume I told her anything? Maybe Bonnie did; or even Caroline. You know how they like to tell stories."

"So do you Jeremy," Isobel returned tiredly, "and before your father and I left last night, Elena was perfectly content with Snow White; not vampires."

"You know how fickle we kids are," Jeremy replied trying desperately to keep his cool. His mother had a knack for prying the information she wanted from him slowly and agonizingly. He was not about to give in and confess to telling his baby sister vampire folklore; a very petty thing to get in trouble for.

"My patience is running very thin, Jer. Just tell me what you told her; please." Isobel's eyes searched Jeremy for some sign of surrender, but none was found.

"Fine," Jeremy gave in. All of this stressful banter wasn't worth it. "I told her the story of the original vampire; that Damon guy." Jeremy gave a casual shrug of the shoulders.

"Why would you do that," Isobel replied hoarsely, her voice barely reaching a whisper. Her eyes froze in what seemed to be paralyzed fear, and she looked as if she was about to be sick. Jeremy stared at his mother in utter confusion, not knowing why what he told her would get her so worked up.

"Mom, the story wasn't that scary. Elena is fine. So what if she's curious about vampires? It's not the worst thing to be interested in," Jeremy replied tentatively. He began to tap his foot awkwardly against the wood floor, and his eyes dropped to his nervously tapping foot; that being more pleasant than his mother's tortured face.

"Where did you learn that story, Jeremy?" Isobel asked shakily, her eyes locking on Jeremy's form.

"O-oh, um, just some- some website," her son replied nervously. That was far from the truth and they both knew it.

"How do you know about it," Isobel questioned more harshly. Crossing her arms, it was obvious she wouldn't back down.

"A website, Mom, okay? Just let it go! It's honestly not that big of a deal; and maybe Elena doesn't want to be your little princess anymore. Ever thought of that?" Jeremy paused to settle his shaking breath then continued, "Tyler's waiting for me. I have to go." He brushed past his fuming mother and out the door with a bang. Isobel sighed, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and pointer finger.

"You and Jeremy really know how to have an argument," a voice said from behind her.

"John, I don't know what to do about him. He just won't listen." Isobel shook her head, leaning back into her husband. John wrapped his arms around Isobel's waist, trying to calm his wife's tense body.

"You can't change who he is, Isobel; he's a teenager now. But just work with him." At that, Isobel froze. She turned around to face John, his arms now resting on her lower back.

"Work with him? Jeremy's idea of working with me is removing me completely from his life. I can't let him off the leash like that. He's too- too unpredictable."

"You can't choke him either, Is. It's hard dealing with a teenager; but it's part of the job." John began rubbing circles on Isobel's back with his thumb, in another attempt to calm her.

"Easy for you to say. You're the cool Dad that plays catch with Jer and watches Snow White with Elena. They make me out to be the high-strung monster that doesn't even know the definition of fun." Isobel paused, as if contemplating her next words then said "Look, Jeremy's been snooping around."

"You can't blame the kid for being curious."

"He knows the story, John. And he told Elena." That sickly look grew once more on Isobel's face, and John froze.

"Jeremy told her? Oh god," John replied stunned. He removed his arms from his wife's waist and began to pace. "Our little girl..."

"I know," Isobel replied quietly, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Is there anything we can do?"

"No," Isobel's voice cracked. "Nothing."

"We tried so hard to keep this from her; we were so close." John began to pace more quickly now.

"I know we were," Isobel returned softly.

"Why did you have to keep that goddamn book? If we'd gotten rid of it like we had planned to do, this wouldn't have happened. Elena would be safe."

"Me? _I _kept the book? I remember you telling me very clearly you thought we should keep it. Don't blame this on me, John," Isobel warned.

"Where did you hide it?" John asked numbly.

"In the attic; and when I checked this morning, it was right where I left it."

"The attic, Is? Of course Jeremy would find it there!" John shook his head.

"When I hid it, Jer and Elena were afraid of the attic," Isobel defended.

"Apparently not anymore," John mumbled.

"You left it to me to hide it, so I did!" Isobel's temper was beginning to flare.

John sighed: "Us fighting won't do any good. We're both to blame for this. So what can we do?"

"Pray it doesn't happen." Isobel replied grimly.

"You honestly think it won't?" John raised a questioning yet hopeful eyebrow.

"The legend's old, John. There's always a chance."

* * *

><p>"Elena, if you say the word 'vampire' one more time, I swear to god," Caroline complained.<p>

"Yeah, even though we love you, this vampire stuff is kind of weird," Bonnie agreed.

"Guys, that's so not fair!" Elena sulked. "And it's really cool, Bonnie."

"How are evil guys sucking people's blood cool? That's totally gross," Caroline replied. Elena glared at her two friends from her place on the grass, picking at her melting Klondike. They didn't understand. Bonnie and Caroline didn't get how phenomenal vampires were, and Elena looked at them now with a newfound distaste.

"You guys suck," Elena finally replied, crossing her arms. Her sticky fingers rubbed on her upper arms and she felt disgusting all over. The only person she felt she could talk to now was Jeremy, and he rarely sacrificed time to spend with her.

"Yeah, but at least we don't like monsters," Caroline shot back. Blonde glared at brunette, princess versus ex-queen. Bonnie felt herself caught in between the lethal glares, and her mind churned desperately for a way to end the agonizing tension.

"Fine, be that way. I'm going now," Elena replied stiffly, getting up from her seat, and began to walk away. Although she was angry with her two best friends, she silently hoped they would get up from their seats and run after her. Elena's wish wasn't granted, though, and her heart fell. She felt alone, and all because she had told her so called best friends she liked vampires. For once in Elena's life, she wasn't queen; she had no fairytale world to rule, and no loyal subjects to keep her in power. Elena's once winter wonderland now turned into the icy reality of winter, and she was abandoned. She considered going back to her friends, but that would be like pouring raindrops back into a cloud; impossible. Elena had banished herself from her own kingdom, and now her once loyal advisors would take over, leaving Elena in her cold winter.

* * *

><p>"What are you so pleased about, Damon?" Klaus asked as he entered the small cabin they were staying in.<p>

"Soon we will leave Kiel," Damon answered with a smirk.

"Why the sudden change?"

"The girl has been told the story, Klaus." Damon's eyes flashed with an eerily unknown desire.

"She is only eleven years of age though, Damon. She cannot be ours yet." Klaus crossed his arms, and sat down in the chair across from Damon.

"Five years, Klaus, five," the original replied, downing the rest of his bourbon. The substance burned as it went down his throat even after hundreds of years of drinking it, reminding Damon that some things never lose their effect; even in excess amounts.

"What do you suppose we do for the next five years?" Klaus asked pouring himself a glass. He turned on his heel to face Damon. Even after thousands of years, Damon's iced eyes still sent fearful shivers down Klaus's spine; some things never lose their effect.

"What we have always done. We will keep moving. But soon, I think we shall take a long awaited trip to America." A smirk grew on Damon's face and he felt a tingle in his fingers, longing to wrap them around the much anticipated Elena Gilbert.

* * *

><p>Though night was soon upon Mystic Falls, Elena wouldn't move from her lonesome place on the bench. Neither Bonnie nor Caroline had called her, and she had lied to her parents when they called asking how her play-date with her two friends. Elena watched her world collapse in front of her in less than five hours, with no one there to comfort her. She picked at her perfectly pink painted nails, chipping off little bits of polish at a time. The cold summer wind gave her a warning she should return home, but her body would not move. There was a strange comfort in sitting alone as the world around her darkened.<p>

Elena did not move for what seemed like hours, and when she finally blinked out of her trance, it was pitch black around her. She gulped nervously and slowly got up from her place on the bench. All of Mystic Falls seemed to call it a night at ten, and it was eleven when Elena checked her phone. Guided only by streetlights, Elena found her way home. Staring up at her house she twirled a piece of her curly chocolate hair, scared of what would be waiting for her behind the blue front door.

"Elena! Where have you been? Are you hurt? Are you- are you alright?" Isobel ran her hands down her daughter's hair franticly, looking Elena over to make sure there were not cuts, bruises, or broken bones.

"I'm okay, Mommy," Elena whispered, looking down. Isobel tilted her head to keep Elena's gaze.

"I called Ms. Forbes a little bit ago and she said Caroline was home; same with Bonnie. Elena sweetie, where were you?" Isobel's features were panicked and tense and Elena could sense it even in the dim lighting.

"They got mad at me so I left. I sat on the park bench for a little bit. Then it got cold so I came home." Elena explained softly.

"Why didn't you tell me or Daddy to come and pick you up? Honey, you didn't have to spend the whole day alone."

"I wanted to though. It wasn't bad; I watched the birdies for a while," Elena replied innocently. Isobel sighed, deciding not to press her daughter any further.

"Alright Pumpkin, let's get you to bed. Just promise me you'll tell me the truth next time. I need to know where you are, no matter how safe you think you are. Promise?" Isobel put her hand around Elena's shoulder and began leading her up the stairs.

"Okay, Mommy." Elena agreed. When the two entered Elena's room, the little girl kicked off her shoes and nestled into bed. Isobel let her daughter get away with not brushing her teeth, and rather kissed her and pulled the blankets up higher on Elena.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Isobel whispered, kissing her daughter's head once more.

"Nighty night," Elena mumbled, and instantly fell asleep.

"_You belong to me, now,"_ a voice echoed in Elena's head and the little girl shivered in her sleep.

* * *

><p>Okay, so I am so sorry I haven't updated in such a long time. School was killing me with exams and papers and all of those things. But I am now on summer vacation, so my updates will hopefully be quicker now. But if for some reason they aren't, please don't lose faith in the story! I promise I will update every story- no matter how long it has been since my last update. And my apologies for this chapter being kind of boring; I promise they'll get a lot better soon. Elena just has to turn 16 first ;)<p>

**Remember, reviews are love, people!**


	3. Whisper

_Catch me as I fall__, __say you're here and it's all over now.__  
><em>_Speaking to the atmosphere,__no one's here and I fall into myself.__  
><em>_This truth drives me__into madness;__I know I can stop the pain__if I will it all away._

_-Whisper_

Elena woke to the bright lights of morning. Her pale skin seemed to sizzle under the merciless wrath of the sun, and she flipped onto her back. Elena's thick dark tresses clung to her dripping neck, suffocating all the sanity from her. Again she had awoken to the nauseating sensation moaning in the depths of her stomach. Webs of acid seemed tickle the inside of her skull making her vision appear blurry and her hyperactive imagination allowed the freedom to create a setting for her. Rubbing her eyes the crusts fell from their dwellings in the corner of her eyes and the red wasteland of her imagination faded along with them. She stared at the pieces of crust which had fallen onto her white sheets and she snarled at them. Sighing heavily, she dragged her body from bed- today; her junior year of school began. The reality hit her crumbling soul like the harsh bones of a fist making contact with her chest. Ever since Jeremy had told her the story of the Vampire Damon, Elena had been unable to partake in reality as an active participant. Voices howled in her ears, and one voice echoed deep in her, seeming to come from her heart, penetrating all barriers she had created over the past four years- soon to be five. Her birthday fell on October 31st, which many people in school deemed perfect for her. Elena sighed, rubbing her face with her hands. The oils in her skin left her hands shiny and sleek; she couldn't help but admire how it made her skin sparkle with a certain life she couldn't seem to find. The world of Elena Gilbert was a lonely one save for the voices that whispered to her constantly. They were a buzz that never ceased, and she doubted ever would. Elena had become numb to their sickly howls and slimy insults, but she could not help but notice when the voice called to her from deep within. Its seductive whisper pulled her in like a drug; she would never escape.

"Elena! Get up! We have to leave in forty-five minutes. We can't be late again!" Jeremy's voice boomed from the living room. Elena rolled her eyes. Though her brother was only a year older, he used that year as some excuse to act as emperor over her.

"I know," she returned monotonously. "I'll be down." She slammed her door shut and stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes red from the tears she cried during the night, her body drenched in the sweat of nightmare, Elena needed to rinse her slate clean. Again, no one would know of her heartache- they would not understand. She had no reason to cry herself to sleep or have treacherous dreams of pain and agony in the eyes of her peers and family. Elena had fallen so far from her pedestal of grace and power that she was unrecognizable to even the part of her that was still the eleven year old who clutched to childhood and success – to royalty. The Snow White Queen was now the old hag that creeped around corridors and was only beautiful in the dark mask of night. Evil had always loved her, and she could not help but begin to love it in return. Elena had the choice to either reign in the depths of Hell or serve behind the pearly gates of Heaven- the former seeming to be the more desired choice. In her vision of Hell, she was loved; admired; desired. She wanted far more than what the humble servitude in Heaven would give to her and the freedom of the underworld gave her that. Shaking thoughts from her rumbling mind, she strode to her bathroom and shut the door. The water ran over her skin like a warm welcome of innocence. The water washed the tainted sweat from her body, and the oils which had brought her the fake look of life, streamed down her body and into the drain.

"_I'll have you soon. Then, your water will do little for your remaining innocence." _The voice was the one from her heart. It thudded in her chest and head with the beat of her heart. It hovered in her thoughts for agonizing moments before she seemed to have the power to wish it away. She'd always wondered where the voices had come from. Was she becoming insane? Or was there a greater force working against her? The mystery was nowhere closer to being solved than the day the whispers began. Elena continued her routine of clothes and makeup with little energy, and when she broke from autopilot mode she found herself in the kitchen.

"Elena, we're leaving in five minutes. You ready?" Jeremy looked at his sister deeply, searching her bland face for some sort of response; anything.

"Yeah, whatever." Elena gave a dark sideways glance to her brother. Moments later, the siblings' mother came down the stairs. Her face was tired and her hair was a scrambled mess. Not that that was any surprise to the children- their mother was not necessarily a morning person.

"Ah, my babies are all grown up! Junior and senior year- wow, how time flies." She gave a smile and kissed each of her children on the forehead. "Well, you better get going!" Jeremy nodded, and Elena simply stared. The two teens exited the kitchen and went out the door. Elena was nowhere near ready for this school year. All that she would have is classes she would pay little attention to, a social life as exciting as a rock's, and loads of homework that would pile themselves up in her backpack. The only comfort she had was that the moaning voices of her core would always have something to say. Though threats and insults were their specialty, it was stimulating to her senses which had become so numb.

* * *

><p>"Klaus!" Damon's voice bellowed in the dark room, bouncing off the stone walls. Damon knew his companion was off hunting, but he was also aware that Klaus would never dare to not answer his call. The time was drawing nearer to the Gilbert's birthday, and arrangements for him and Klaus to leave Serbia had been made. Damon could not wait to land his feet once more in Virginia soil. The last time he had set foot in the town of Mystic Falls had been in 1865 when he met Katherine. The vampire shook his head at the thought of the dumb damsel who had turned his life into a spinning madness of legends, myths, and witchcraft. The blood of the Petrova was sickeningly mystic, but Damon could not wait to sink his teeth into the sweet blood that coursed through Elena's veins. October could not come soon enough for him, and he knew Klaus felt the same.<p>

"Damon," Klaus muttered as he entered the room. The vampire gave a subtle bow to his former master out of impulse. The only life Klaus had ever known was the life of servitude- and if he was meant to serve the devil, well, so it would be.

"We leave tomorrow for Virginia," Damon said making his way over to Klaus. With the coarse skin of his thumb, he removed some blood that had found its way on the side of Klaus's mouth. Holding his thumb up to his dangerous mouth, the licked the red substance. "Be ready." With that, Damon brushed past his colleague and into the depths of the next room. Klaus stood there stunned. Licking his lips, he thought of finally laying eyes upon the girl Damon so longingly waited for. Though Damon denied it with the iced expression of his eyes, Klaus knew his friend loved the prophecy given to him. It lighted a certain fire in Damon that nothing else could bring life to. His poor friend was bound to the Petrova bloodline, but Elena would bring about the end of it. He and Damon would be free from ancient myth and legend- free to prowl the earth even more dangerously than they were able to now. it was liberating to know the end of a witch's curse was drawing nearer.

* * *

><p>"Now, I want you to write the first thing that comes to your mind. There is no right answer, no right topic," Elena's English teacher instructed as he walked around the classroom observing the responses of his students. Elena stared blankly into dimensions unknown to anyone but her, tapping the lead of her pencil on the desk. Finally her twisted thoughts found their way into her pencil and she scribbled down in cursive:<p>

_Servatis a maleficum._

"Save us from evil," Elena whispered to herself. Ever since the day she was told the story of the Vampire Damon, she had found herself able to understand Latin. She was not quite sure how, but it felt dear to her- a lost tongue she was able to speak once more.

"_Save you from evil?" _the voice in her heart chuckled, _"my dear, you _are _evil."_

* * *

><p>Wow, so it's been forever. I really apologize. My inspiration for this story had been down for quite some time, but finally imagination found its words. So I am so sorry! I hope you are still with me on this? Again, I'm sorry it's short; but it's better than nothing, right? I promise the chapters will be much longer from this point forward (hopefully).<p>

**Remember, reviews are love, people! **_  
><em>


	4. Dance With the Devil

_Trembling, crawling across my skin, feeling your cold dead eyes; stealing the life from mine. I won't last long, in this world so wrong_.

-Dance with the Devil

"Can we at least stop for breakfast," Klaus oily inquired. He flipped his eyes in the direction of Damon, who only supplied him with a tight smirk.

"Our plane leaves in two hours. We have no time to make breakfast a sport today." The vampire bathed in black sauntered down the cobble street, leaving his companion to stand alone. Klaus sighed. As the day of the doppelganger's sixteenth birthday drew nearer, Damon became increasingly on edge.

"So what is your plan," Klaus finally returned, "when we get to Mystic Falls?" He cracked his knuckles. Damon stopped where he was, slowly turning to face Klaus.

"She is mine now," Damon said simply, "there is no need to create any plan."

"So—you're just going to waltz into a small town where people talk, swipe up your beloved doppelganger, and speed away by dawn and believe no one will notice or care?" Klaus cocked his head to the side.

"If this is your attempt at being a comic relief, you came nowhere close," Damon deadpanned. His icy eyes froze Klaus's core. Damon began to slightly grind his teeth, and the motion was devouring Klaus between jaws of concrete.

"All I am trying to say is that we _do _need a plan. This girl- she is the _doppelganger_ of Amica; not just a descendent. She is worth much more than the others." Klaus stared at Damon, knowing he was right. It was now just a matter of getting that through Damon's thick skull.

"Of course I know she is!" Damon snapped in return, feeling his muscles tighten. He had a snake for a spine; it released poison into his back, allowing it to swim up his neck and pulse fatally in his head. "Do you think I enjoy being bound to a meager little human?" By now he was seething. This girl had such an effect on him, that Damon wasn't sure that he could resist snapping her neck the second he laid eyes on her.

Klaus knew how Amica and her descendents had tampered with Damon and his lives. That witch was a constant tug and tear at their eternal bliss as demons of the night.

* * *

><p>"<em>We must leave now," Damon hissed sternly to Klaus. The humble servant merely nodded his head in loyalty. Klaus began to gather warm clothes and food for the journey- wherever it may lead them. "No, leave it all," Damon commanded, trying not to raise his voice too loud for his sickly parents to hear. He knew if he and Klaus stayed here, it would only end in misery. Taking his servant by the wrist, he tugged him out of the house, and they crept quietly on the dirt path. With his newfound abilities and heightened senses, Damon was a fumbling mess; a newborn baby, just learning how the world works. His overexcited ears caught every rush of wind; every rustle of the trees; every breath from the sleeping and dying town. <em>

"_How will we survive?" Klaus timidly asked looking longingly back to the house. He had just completed his transition, and Damon smirked at him. _

"_Blood," was his simple and lustful reply. Just forming the words on his lips made him want the warm and irony substance on his tongue; to slip it slowly down his throat with more burn and sensation than any alcohol could ever conjure._

"_I- Sir- Blo-" but Klaus was stopped when the two vampires heard shuffling feet behind them. Turning on his heel, Damon peered into the darkness with perfectly clear sight. Running towards them frantically was the town witch. The beautiful brunette was the sex symbol in every man's dream in the town. Her features illuminated through the entire gray, and she was her own brilliant sun. But she was also a sorceress; dangerous, slippery, and utterly tormenting. But she, this great secret god, had only eyes for Damon; she had always had. Scurrying up to them, she dropped to her knees in front of the shocked vampires. If it had been any other human, they would have scoffed at them. But this was the mystical Amica. _

"_I know who you are," her voice danced quietly through the night, her eyes melding into Damon's."You know you will die if you go into the sun; you would not want to live eternity like that, would you?" Damon couldn't help but be interested in the subject. _

"_No," he replied hesitantly. "Do you have a solution?" _

"_Yes," came her light reply, and she rose to her feet. She took a brave step closer to Damon, and raised her head to look at him. _

"_What is it," Damon asked in reply, trying desperately not to sink into her caramel eyes. _

"_It is not that easy, kind Damon. I will make you a deal." At this, Damon rolled his eyes, beginning to turn away. Amica caught him by the hand, pulling him lightly closer to her. Damon didn't even try to resist her. _

"_You know you need what I have to offer," her voice was deep; low and seductive. Her hot and human breath flooded into Damon's pores. _

"_What is your deal?" Damon raised his head higher, so his eyes weren't directly looking into her flawless features. He knew her looks were of greater danger than her powers. From a small pouch, she produced two rings; almost identical, though one was a more majestic blue. She held them up to Damon. _

"_These rings will protect you from the sun. Ever take it off, and you are a heap of ashes in the soil." Damon reached for the rings, but Amica pulled them away. "The other side of the bargain is that you are bound to me." _

"_Bound to you?" Damon wished he could pull away, speed off into the darkness before dawn. _

"_My bloodline. Every time a female descendent of mine turns sixteen, you must go to her. Remind her of the past and our relations. Fail to do so and this pretty little ring of yours will be as worthless as powerless god. Do we have an accord?" Amica raised a sharp eyebrow. _

_Damon sighed. "Yes." With a small smirk, Amica handed each man a ring; of course giving the brighter of the two to Damon. _

"_We must seal this in blood and spell. Hold out your hand." Damon did as he was told. Taking her sharp pointer fingernail, she broke the skin of Damon's palm across a vein. Doing the same to herself, she put her hand on top of his fusing their blood. She began to whisper an ancient chant in a language long ago forgotten. Her eyes were closed, and she swayed back in forth with more energy as the spell reached its climax. Damon simply stared at her, too frozen and confused to even blink. _

"_Do not ever forget this deal- do so, and you are _gone_." Amica whispered into his ear, and began striding back to her hut. Damon wondered why she hadn't asked him to change her into a vampire; and he never got the chance to ask. Damon and Klaus made their way swiftly out of the town, and into the world which was now theirs for the taking._

* * *

><p>Klaus sighed deeply.<p>

"Will you compel this one too?" It had always been Damon's practice to tell Amica's descendents the relation between him and their ancestor, only to torture them and then compel them to forget. But Elena was different. She was the doppelganger of Amica; the exact replica. Damon wasn't sure that he could let this one go. In return to Klaus, Damon simply glared, then continued on down the path. In no time at all, he and Klaus would be in Mystic Falls.

* * *

><p>Elena took a carton of milk from the cooler, and plopping it down on her tray. Sighing, she looked at her pathetic lunch of pizza, an apple, and chocolate milk and thought: <em>this is my life. <em>Boring, oddly put together, and lost. Giving the lunch lady a five dollar bill, Elena began to walk to her table. It wasn't the stereotypical losers' table; it wasn't shoved in the corner by the trash can, and it wasn't repulsively sticky. But Elena was all alone at the end; with only her thoughts and echoing voice as company. Staring at the ground until the tiles began to swirl together, she collided with someone.

"Watch it," the girl sneered in a high tone. Elena breathed deeply. It was Caroline Forbes.

"Sorry, Caroline," Elena murmured. _Weak. Pathetic. You are a disgrace. _The voice chastised darkly, an evil snicker accompanying it.

"Ugh, Gilbert. And now I'm going to have to sanitize," Caroline sarcastically sighed, holding out her hands as if she had just rubbed the most toxic of poisons on her hands. Elena glared in response.

"Bitch," she muttered as she began to walk off to her seat. Caroline froze, glaring bullets into Elena's back. Walking as quickly as her heels would take her, Caroline followed Elena.

"_What _did you call me?" She put her hands on her hips, pursing her perfectly glossed lips. Elena had always hated stereotypical people; one more reason to loathe Caroline Forbes.

"A bitch. A shallow little whore who should spend more time on the difference between Kennedy and Carter than Gucci and Prada." Elena gave a sarcastically sweet smile, and turned on her heel finally reaching her seat. Caroline did not follow. Whether if it was the impact of Elena's words or the fact that she was about to step into the loser zone, Elena was unsure. Either way, it made no difference. She was just relieved to have the bouncing blonde's presence out of her face. Letting her tray drop to the table, Elena took a seat. Elbows propped on the tabletop, fingers massaging her head, she sighed. She just wanted to be home: home, where she could write, read, maybe even go for a run to clear her head. School was just one more stress adding to her increasing insanity. She could hear feet coming over to her solitary side of the table, but she made no move to lift her head to identify the visitor.

"Hey, Elena," an excited teenage voice greeted. Elena sunk her head deeper into her hands. She was in no mood for Alec West. Running her hands through her hair, she lifted her head to face him.

"Hi Alec," Elena replied with a meek smile. He was a cute red head, who potentially had nice pale skin under all the red pimples, but that wasn't even the issue. The kid's personality was just a sinking ship of annoyance.

"So um, I was wondering if you were going to How to Survive a Zombie apocalypse 101 club today? Because you said last week that you would come." Alec scratched the back of his neck, staring eagerly at Elena. She blinked slowly in return. Of course she didn't want to join Alec's dumb zombie club. She'd rather take plastic lightsaber fight club over this. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, Alec, I… I don't think I can come today. My mom wanted me to help her clear out the um, closet, and she'll be pissed if I'm late." Elena supplied him with an apologetic smile as she watched his face drop twenty fathoms.

"Oh- uh, okay, yeah, do what you gotta do. Maybe I'll see you there next week?" Alec's mouth twitched, beginning to form a smile, and taking the whiteheads along for the ride. Elena tried to keep from gagging as she went to reply.

"Yeah, we'll see." Elena's mouth became a straight line, and she nodded tightly. She wasn't sure she could take a whole year of this.

* * *

><p>Alright, so again with the short chapter! I am so sorry. I have an essay due this week, so after that is over; I'll be able to dedicate more time to this story and others. (For sure <em>Caught in a Fading Daydream<em>, which I will be updating next). So I hope this chapter gave you some more background information that proved interesting. Please tell me your thoughts.

_Be good and review! _


	5. Lost In Paradise

_I've been believing in something so distant, as if I was human.__And I've been denying this feeling of hopelessness in me… now I'm lost in paradise._

-Lost In Paradise

Elena stared blankly at the white walls surrounding her. She was so alone, yet with so many ghostly figures hovering around her. She knew they were there; no matter how she denied it. They were memories of the life she could have had. The world was spinning, but she was too numb to feel nauseous. What good was it to try if it didn't help anything? Elena rubbed her forehead, curving her pointer finger down the side of her face until she felt the pulse in her neck.

"Elena!" Jeremy called to her from downstairs. Elena rolled her eyes. She was finding it hard to believe she and her brother had once been the closest of friends.

"What?" she bit out loudly in response.

"Come down here for a second." Elena lay back on her bed, tapping her hand next to her hip. What could her brother possibly want from her? Blinking tightly, she got up and began to walk slowly out of the room and down the stairs.

"Yes?" She taunted in fake sweetness when she found her brother on the living room couch.

"Elena, mom and dad went out for the night." Jeremy had a smirk crisscrossing over his face.

"Okay, thanks for telling me?" Elena said confused, raked a hand quickly through her brown locks and beginning to walk out of the room.

"You can't go yet." Jeremy stared at her, binding her feet with metaphorical steel.

"What do you want?" Elena tapped her foot expectantly.

"You, out of the house for tonight. I'm having a little gathering."

"A little gathering," Elena deadpanned with a dark chuckle. "You mean the best and most popular seniors, and you don't want your weird little sister around to ruin your night with the shallow idiots."

"With my _friends_," Jeremy corrected coldly.

"Actually, they're Tyler's friends. You're just lucky they let you tag along." Elena gave a taunting smile in return.

"When did you become such a bitter bitch?" Jeremy sneered. He hated what he and his sister had come to. He couldn't remember the last time she had given him a genuine smile. How long it had been since he had hugged her. Jeremy felt his heart fall to his gut, but he still kept a steely exterior.

"The second you became an arrogant control freak." His sister fired back. Elena's face was bleak: cold and gray with years of a whipping wind. Her once vibrant olive skin now seemed off-color and dead. What Jeremy would give to put a smile back on his sister's face and return the light to her skin.

"Testy today, aren't we? Look, Elena, just disappear tonight, alright?"

"When am I not a ghost?" Elena muttered to herself. "Don't worry; I won't ruin your little fantasy night, okay?" Elena walked quickly out of the room.

Standing in the hallway, she looked to the clock. 5:30. Jeremy would probably have friends over by eight. She pinched the bridge of her nose; what would her next move be? It wasn't worth staying around and pestering Jeremy until his friends came. Sighing, she grabbed her deep plum jacket off of the rack and walked out the door. Shutting it behind her with her back, she stared out into the vacant street. Why couldn't things go her way? Just once? She looked to the sky, but god came back with no response. If there even was a god, he sure as hell had done little for her. Elena stared a moment longer, seeing if there might be some sort of answer from the sky. When the cool autumn breeze was the only response, Elena tried to ignore Heaven's rudeness.

"Spectacular," she grumbled to herself, and walked off the porch. She knew she only had an hour or two left of daylight, so she couldn't go far. Elena walked the winding streets of her neighborhood, but quickly tired of the suburban landscape. Turning off the street, she quickly found herself on Mystic Falls' main road. A street full of bars, restaurants, shops, and teenagers with the illusion that this is was a cool and badass place to be. Elena rolled her eyes at the thought. Crossing her arms in defense of the cold wind, she quickly walked to the Grill. Pushing the door open, she was met with a whirling warm wind and a congested area full of people, smoke, and pole tables. This was her Saturday night. Finding her way to an open table, she placed her coat over the chair slowly. She would do anything to keep herself entertained for as long as possible—it was going to be a slow night.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked as Elena approached him. She tried to hide the smile as she stared at him. With his sweet green eyes and crisp blonde hair, he was quite the catch.

"Um," she replied quietly, "can I have a Diet Coke?" She gave the boy a smile, to try and brighten her features. As aching and alone as she felt, she wanted to make a good impression.

"Sure, that'll be 3 dollars." The bartender went to get her Coke, and Elena sifted through her pockets only to come up with two dollars. She mentally kicked herself for not checking for money before leaving her house. _Damn Jeremy. _

"Shit," Elena muttered, placing the two dollars on the table. She looked around anxiously, with the meager hope some solution would be there. But luck failed her, and the bartender came back. Putting the Coke on the counter, he took the two dollars.

"You're missing one dollar," the boy said with a shining smile. Elena tapped her fingers against the sweating glass.

"Oh—oh, um, yeah," Elena replied nervously. She pretended to dig in her pockets for that one simple dollar bill, and did so with shaking hands. "Look," she began apologetically, until a figure came up behind her.

"Here's that dollar," the swirling seductive voice said, leaning over Elena to put the bill on the counter with authority. The bartender gave a nod of a 'thank you', but his face noticeably fell when he saw the man so close to Elena. Elena's body tightened. Taking a breath, she slowly turned to face the man. As she turned, the figure took only a step or two back, so their bodies were still lightly touching. Looking up to him timidly, Elena was met with the most brilliant blue eyes.

"Um, thank you, for doing that. I appreciate it." Elena grabbed her Coke, giving the man a tight smile. He simply stared at her. "Excuse me," she said lightly, brushing past him. A part of her wanted to stay. That was one of the first times a truly gorgeous man had even noticed she existed and did something about it. Gripping her glass tightly, she walked over to her table. Taking a seat, she suddenly had a wave of loneliness come over her. Elena drank her Coke frequently to give her something to do, and to help her create an illusion that she was not alone. Staring at her phone on the table, she kept putting in her password for something to do.

"Hey, Jeremy," Elena greeted tightly when her brother came on the other side of the phone.

"What, Elena?" Jeremy replied in annoyance.

"Are you coming over by the Grill by any chance?"

"Why?"

"Well, I didn't bring enough money, and need to get dinner at some point." Elena twisted her hair around her finger as she waited for her brother's reply. She could feel him rolling his eyes.

"Elena, people have already showed up. No can do. Sorry." Jeremy's voice was short and to the point—Elena knew he didn't want to be bothered. She sighed.

"Alright, then, I guess…" she closed her eyes, "forget I even called." She jerked the phone away from her ear and angrily punched the 'end call' button. Flinging her phone onto the dark wooden table, and crossed her arms and dropped her head to the wood.

"Sorry to eavesdrop, but I can buy you dinner," the blue eyed man told Elena as he stood next to her table. Elena picked up her head.

"Oh, that's so nice of you," she said with a smile. "But it's alright. Thank you, though."

"You sure?" The man raised an eyebrow. Although her gut told her to just walk away, her eyes lingered on him. There was something about this man that drew her in; she was finding it hard to resist.

"You know what? Dinner would actually be great. Thanks." Even as Elena spoke the words, she still felt tentative. She brushed the feeling quickly to the side though, and the man smiled.

"Wonderful. I don't believe I caught your name." The man smirked.

"I'm Elena."

"Damon." Damon nodded, and turned on his heel. "Burger okay?" He turned his head to face her.

"Yeah, that's fine. Thank you again." Elena tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling. Her luck may actually be turning around. She watched as Damon ordered. She stared at his body moving behind his wall of black clothing, and she was lost in him. His light skin and blue eyes stood out beautifully against his dark attire and hair. Maybe there actually was a god.

* * *

><p>"Food will be coming soon," Damon said as he sat down next to Elena. "So why is a girl like you alone on Saturday night?" Damon flashed a hybrid between a smile and a smirk. Elena was too blinded by him to notice the oily taint in Damon's smile.<p>

"Saturday nights are overrated," Elena replied with a shrug of the shoulders.

"Is that so?" Damon replied, placing his elbows on the table and leaning subtly closer to Elena. His plan was working perfectly.

"It is so," Elena laughed, accompanying it with a nod.

"Enlighten me," Damon said with sultry softness.

"Saturday is no different from any other day of the week. I just don't get why it's such a huge deal what people do over the weekend. Alone time is good for the soul."

"But after a while it takes a toll on sanity," Damon replied.

"Yeah, well, sanity is all in perspective."

"You're really intriguing, you know that?" Damon gave her a mischievous look. It was so easy to flirtatiously taunt Elena.

"Well that's one I've never heard before," Elena said. "People tend to use other adjectives to describe me."

"Well, I'm not people." Damon began to tap his fingers on the table, slowly inching them closer to Elena's hand. Maybe this time he would taunt and play with one of Amica's descendents before he killed her.

"How individualistic of you," Elena replied.

"I suppose you could say that," Damon shrugged. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take being nice to her. Elena looked too much like Amica for this to be easy. "So Elena, what's your story?"

"My story?" Elena echoed, "as if there is one. My life could barely even be considered a novella."

"Why do you say that? I'm sure it's much more intriguing then you let on." Of course, Damon knew all the interesting parts of her life—the voices in her head, the mystical past… he had created them.

"It's honestly not. I'm just a girl who lives her life in the shadows of others or through the pages in a book. When it comes to a story, I'm pretty one dimensional." Elena sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well, I think an adventurous chapter is in dire need then, wouldn't you say?" Damon raised an eyebrow.

"What'd you have in mind?" This was a bad idea, and Elena knew it. But she couldn't stop herself from eagerly agreeing to whatever Damon had in mind. For too long, Elena has lived her life tentatively and subtly. It was time for her to let loose and prove to herself she was more than just a translucent ghost unnoticed by the world.

"I can think of a few things," Damon replied, his voice slithering with dark intentions. Elena smiled at him in return.

* * *

><p>Short chapter—I'm literally the worst updater ever! Well, at least Damon and Elena finally met, right? For the next chapter and future ones, I really want your ideas and suggestions. Writers block is slowly starting to overcome me with this story… so give me your ideas for what this 'adventurous chapter' should be.<p>

_Be good and review! _


	6. Serpentine

_I was caught up in the moment__, __we were alone and you seemed to harness the light.__Even though I felt cold inside__when you told me it would be alright.__I had given up control and__I didn't focus hard enough to see the warning signs:__your heart is serpentine._

-Serpentine

_I have a few things in mind, _Damon had said. The words echoed in Elena's ears eerily. Was she honestly prepared for this? Leaning forward in her seat, Elena debated what to say. She knew she was too far in to back out now.

"Care to share?" Elena gave a subtle smirk, raising an eyebrow. She tapped her fingers on the table.

"I'm an advocate for the unknown," Damon replied, echoing Elena's features.

"How convenient," Elena drawled, resting her chin on her free hand. Damon looked at the girl: she was so much like Amica. More than any of the others he had met. Of course that spark was dormant in Elena, but Damon knew that soon it would awaken.

The waiter walked over to the table, placing Elena's food in front of her.

"You didn't want anything?" Elena questioned, popping a french-fry into her mouth.

"No," Damon returned.

"Well now I feel bad," Elena laughed.

"No need to," Damon said waving a dismissing hand. His nice act was torturous.

"Well thank you, again." Damon nodded in reply.

"So… if you don't mind me asking, why are you being so nice to me? You don't even know me." Elena looked right at Damon, anticipating his answer.

Damon leaned forward, bringing his face closer to hers. "Well," he said lightly, "you don't have to know someone to be kind." Damon felt ill just saying the words.

"Yeah, but I think there's more to your intentions than just kindness."

"Really. What brings you to think that?" Damon raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you liked the unknown," Elena replied in return.

"Touché," Damon answered. "Ready for our… adventure?" Damon quickly licked his lips. He'd get his dinner soon. Taking one final bite of her burger, Elena nodded. Sliding from her seat and putting her phone in her pocket, she followed Damon to the exit. This was wrong. Unsafe. Too crazy.

But who would care? No one. Her parents would be gone until Monday, and Jeremy wouldn't want her in the house until tomorrow—so why not have a little eccentric fun? Elena followed Damon out of the door.

"So where are we going?" Elena asked, speeding up to keep pace with Damon's quick walk.

"You're simply full of questions, aren't you?" Damon's voice was beginning to freeze; his act was crumbling.

"Sorry," Elena muttered, expanding her stride even farther in attempts to keep Damon in view. She quickly considered returning home or to the Grill; but the thought swiftly left her.

As she walked in silence, Elena realized she had no echoing voices in her head. No criticizing remarks to weigh her down. Had she been dreaming it all? Elena allowed her mind to wonder.

"Adventure awaits," Damon told her, staring at an old house to the left of him. Elena blinked back into reality to find herself in the older district of town. Following Damon's gaze, Elena stared up in wonder at the old stone house. The gray and crumbling stone seemed to glare back at her, the particles of dust swirling from it finding its way into her nostrils. The house was one of the oldest in Mystic Falls, and unlike any other design in the town. It looked to be more of a medieval castle than it did a home. Elena had always imagined the inside to be like a dungeon: full of rusted chains and metal, deep dark colors, and a fire that somehow never could truly heat the house.

"Here?" Elena gulped. The ominous radiations from the house seeped into Elena's pores, surging their way to her brain. This place only held darkness; or so her parents had told her. No one had lived in it for decades; there had to be a reason.

"Afraid?" Damon raised an eyebrow. He only had to get her into the home, and then his entire act could be free to fall. He longed to see the look of horror on Elena's face when she saw his true self.

"No," Elena scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Then after you, my dear." Damon stared at Elena alluringly, his crisp blue eyes hovering over his victim's body as she tentatively entered the house. Stepping over the threshold, Elena knew she was trapped. Either mentally or physically; she wasn't quite sure. A small segment of her brain brought up the idea that it may be both. She shuddered.

"So what are we doing here?" Elena asked, keeping the shaking from her voice as best she could. Damon entered the house as well, slamming the door closed behind him. The thick heavy wooden door shook the entire home, closing off the only source of light. Darkness devoured the pair.

Elena inhaled sharply. What had she done?

Damon's eyes fluttered with pleasure as the darkness overcame him. He felt utterly in his element, the blackness in his heart growing furiously. Tightly blinking his eyes, the pure blue brutally transformed into total black. The vacant veins of his body pumped with a new concoction of torture, pain, and bloodlust. Tonight, Damon would feast.

"Not afraid of the dark, are we?" Damon's usually alluring voice became a gravel sneer of torment.

"Damon," Elena whimpered, "why are we here." Her frantic eyes tried to adjust to the lack of light, but it only made her more lost. She wanted to cry; scream; run. Anything.

"Adventure, dear."

"This isn't really what I had in mind." Elena backed deeper into the home, hoping to find a wall. Her body collided with something hard, but it was a body. _His _body. Damon wrapped his arms around Elena like deathly tendrils; digging his sharp nails into Elena's stomach.

"That's the point of the unknown," Damon breathed into Elena's ear, biting at it.

"Let me go," Elena pleaded, tears beginning to form. Damon whipped Elena around to face him, tearing her shirt and stomach as he did. Gripping her shoulders with an agonizing strength, he peered right into her eyes. For once, her eyes adjusted just enough to see the utter blackness swirling venomously in his sockets.

"You will not leave. You will always comply when I call upon you. You will tell no one of our meetings; ever. But you will remember. Everything." Damon again licked his lips. Elena said nothing in return.

"Please," Elena finally whispered. Her body shook, and she felt as if she'd be sick. She felt the blood begin to trickle down her stomach, heading perpetually south down her body. Damon could smell the blood; it became too much to resist.

"Don't move," he ordered, staring into her eyes. Elena didn't move; but her mind was on haywire.

Crouching down, Damon lifted Elena's torn shirt, licking the blood. Slowly undoing the button of her jeans, he began to pull on them, taking them down to her toned thighs. He delicately swiped the trickling blood up with his tongue, stopping at her panty line. Using his jagged pinky nail, he made a new and deeper slash down her stomach, cutting into her underwear. He gazed at the growing redness, waiting for the opportune moment to begin. Placing his hands on either side of her waist, Damon tugged gradually at Elena's underwear. He could hear the blood drip; sense it seeping into the cotton fabric. Elena clenched her eyes shut.

She felt as Damon's fingers touched her body. He pulled her panties down to the curve of her butt cheeks and again began to lick the blood. He could feel Elena's body shudder. Tiptoeing his fingers up her thighs, he made slashes with his nails as he went. Moving his hands to the back of Elena's thighs, he reached her ass. Grabbing the juicy skin, he made one last twirling lick, taking the last drop of blood that clung to her pubic hair. The tears were streaming down Elena's face, fusing with the sweat that been produced during Damon's little show.

Damon rose to his full height, leaving his victim's pants and underwear in disarray. "That's only the introduction," he whispered in her ear, nibbling the skin with his front two teeth. "The fangs haven't even made an appearance."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Elena bit her lip. She still was unable to move from her humiliating position.

"Quit with your questions." Damon pushed Elena to the ground. Her body fell to the cold floor with a shock. A pain radiated from her back and shoulders, and more tears fell down her face. Damon dropped himself on top of her, stopping himself with his powerful arms inches from her face; every other part of his body laid right on her. Elena's bare lower body felt the soft fabric of Damon's pants, and she couldn't keep her eyes from fluttering with pleasure.

The wind howled primitively outside, beckoning for a dark night.

Damon allowed for his fangs to elongate. Tearing Elena's shirt completely off of her body, the only barrier between Damon and her breasts was Elena's white bra. Gripping the center of it tightly, he pulled swiftly and powerfully. The bra broke from the back, snapping Elena's back with full force. Elena clenched her jaw tightly, feeling her teeth slam against each other painfully. Tossing the material to the right of him, Damon put his mouth around Elena's nipple. The soft area became stonily hard as Damon sucked.

Sensing Elena's pleasure, he allowed for his razor fangs to rip at the sensitive skin. Elena let a howl escape her: a mix between a moan and a scream. Damon swallowed the flowing blood, feeling the crevices and bumps of Elena's nipple. Cupping Elena's left boob with his left hand, Damon felt the weight of her perfectly formed breast. The milky soft skin tingled against Damon's icy cells. The fusing pain and pleasure of Elena was turning Damon horribly on, but the anticipation and slow raping of his hands over her defenseless body was too addictive.

Taking his mouth from Elena's crimson nipple, he clutched her breasts tightly, listening to her howls. Pressing his boner harder onto Elena's genitals, he could sense her rising sexuality. Moving his hips, he dragged his erected penis over her throbbing middle. Lifting her now limp arm, he sunk his fangs into the bend of her arm. Damon could feel the tendons in Elena's arm tighten. Breathing in the smell of Elena's sweet sweat, he bit harder into her arm. He could feel the vein burst, and the rushing blood flow swiftly into his mouth. As he sucked deeply, Elena muttered

"Damon." It was out of pleasure; it was a plead to stop. Damon knew he was slowly killing her—he wouldn't dispose of his play toy just yet. Extracting his fangs from her arm, Elena's body shuddered.

Moving off of Elena, Damon pressed his toned body against her pleasure-stricken and weak figure. Every curve of her stomach and breasts aroused Damon even more, but he would not give in; not tonight. As his form slowly moved from over Elena, her pulsating middle cried for its companion to return. But the sobbing areas of her body that had been brutalized overpowered the sex-craving area.

"Get up," Damon commanded, and Elena did so. Creakily, shakily, and timidly. "Pull your underwear and pants up." Elena complied.

"What about a shirt?" Elena whispered shallowly. Parts of her body still bled, but she could barely even feel it anymore. Damon answered her question by licking her tingling breasts once more.

"Get your bra and tie it. The walk home shouldn't be too far." Damon paused, and Elena said nothing in return. "Out." Elena nodded eagerly, grabbing for her bra and tying it as she flew out the door. "Until next time," Damon told her before she left. Closing the door, she could hear his wicked laughter. Her over stimulated body ran for home. She didn't worry about the time, or what her brother's reaction would be when she came home. She even kept from her mind the looming truth that Damon would call upon her again. She just ran; guided by the streetlights.

Reaching her home, she pulled out her phone: 1:00 am. Swallowing a cry, she entered the house to find Jeremy and many others sprawled on the floor, in an alcohol induced sleep. Seems like everyone in the Gilbert household would go to bed brutalized tonight.

* * *

><p>Another short chapter! I hate myself. But it's Thanksgiving, and at least I posted. So please, I beg of you, leave me a review. I really need your opinion on this chapter because I need to know if you like where this story is going. If the torture is too dark or something, I must know so I can change it. Happy Thanksgiving to all!<p>

_Be good and review! _


	7. Stricken

_Leave me alone, let me be this time.__You carry on like a holy man pushing redemption,__I don't want to mention, the reason I know.__I am stricken and can't let you go__. __When the heart is cold, there's no hope, and we know that I am crippled by all that you've done;__into the abyss will I run__. __You don't know what your power has done to me;__I want to know if I'll heal inside._

-Stricken

Elena limped her way to her room, careful not to step on any of Jeremy's party-hard guests. Clutching her arm, she could still feel Damon's daggered teeth latched onto her veins. Her tendons were crying from agony, and all Elena could do was feel their tears. She saw the blood beginning to clot and dry, and she felt disgusted with herself. _His _influence was running freely through her body, and she thought uneasily about what damage it might do to her. Sucking in a shaky breath, she wondered if this is what hell felt like: a jail cell in the illusion of home, with demons as watch guards who prowled in the shadows with sadistic desires and intentions for their inmates. Elena promised herself she wouldn't cry; if she did, Damon would have won. He had stolen her body, but he didn't have her soul. Reaching the last step, Elena gazed at the hallway laid before her. Every darkened corner and eerie cranny scared her to death—what if Damon loitered in one, just waiting to attack on her defenseless form? _No, _she told herself, _I'm home; I'm safe. _Closing her eyes, Elena felt her body to catch on fire; with a fuel of distress and an ignition of pain. Swallowing thickly, the saliva went down her throat like a match, hitting every edge of her sand-papered esophagus. The fire seemed to burst in her chest, giving her the torturous pain of heartburn. Yet she didn't care; she wanted her heart to burn. If it did, the memory of this night wouldn't matter, and the scars would be ash swirling in her stomach. Elena opened her eyes, and dragged herself to her room.

Elena tore off reminisce of clothing that stuck to her sweating body, chucking it into the deepest corner of her closet. Heaving her chest heavily, she suddenly felt cold utterly nude. Elena rubbed her face, walking in a daze to her dresser. Taking a fresh pair of underwear out and a tank top, Elena quickly dressed and sunk into bed. She didn't care if she stained her sheets with the few bits of blood that still trickled; all she worried about was her crazed mind. She was terrified to fall asleep; if she did, she would dream: and she knew she'd dream of him.

* * *

><p><em>The knife came down heavily on her stomach, slicing her completely in half; yet Elena was still alive—breathing; seeing; feeling. She stared as her halves breathed in unison, and saw her diaphragm pushing down as she took a breath in. Elena watched as her lungs expanded and contracted, and stared at the food she was digesting got churned in her stomach and turned into chyme. Watching her brutalized body function normally, despite the fact that it was in two pieces, brought tears to Elena's eyes, and she could only stare as the tears streamed down her face exactly the same way on both her halves. <em>

"_Why am I not dead?" was all Elena's stunned brain could think to say. Who had _even dropped the weapon on her anyway? _Elena was bewildered with disbelief._

"_You always ask the wrong questions," a voice chastised, his voice full of weighted seduction and blackness. _

"_What question should I be asking then?" Elena replied obediently. What was she saying! Her mind was screeching insults, but she felt them only vibrate in her brain—they could not reach her mouth. The shadowy figure crouched down beside her right half. _

"_Why did you deserve this punishment," the figure returned monotonously, breathing chilled air over Elena's body. _

"_Why do I deserve this punishment?" Elena asked simply, repeating her torturer with the upmost compliance. Her captor swirled away into nothing before her eyes though, leaving her forced question to go unanswered. _

_Suddenly, she felt her body seem to magnetize back together, and she felt as her fibers, cells, muscles, and bones, and fused and melded back into one solid form. Elena had no feelings to describe the sensation; all she wanted now was off of the dungy and damp floor she was on. Her wish was soon granted. _

_Elena found herself in a hospital bed. Women danced around her in their white gowns, the stiff white ruined with fresh warm red. The gowns flooded with thick and crimson blood, and it was then that Elena noticed the tube shoved into the veins of her wrist: they were sucking the blood from her. Elena tried to scream, but she was drowned out by the women's omniscient humming. __They appeared before her like skeletons: corsets of bone ripping at the seams of skin to the mess within. With bloodied veins for the string and fragile fragmented fibers for lace, they looked to be something worse than the devil__. _

_They were twirling their way closer to Elena, their vacant black and dead eyes keeping contact only with Elena's vulnerable form. The women's gowns seeped in all of the blood that was exiting Elena; the mortal could feel her body running out of strength…_

Elena woke with a start, and shot up in bed. Running her weak hands over her torso, her tightened chest relaxed slightly when she found herself in one intact piece. Turning her arm over, Elena stared at the fragile veins in her arm: they seemed healthy and carrying an abundance of blood. Falling back onto her pillow, she was plagued with the memory of when Damon had shoved her to the hard floor. She felt her shoulders and back begin to throb. Elena closed her eyes; today was Sunday. Maybe she could just lock herself in her room all day. That way, she'd be safe, and the world would not have to see her wounds.

Rolling over carefully in bed, Elena saw 11:30 plastered on the screen in green dotted numbers. She sighed. Jeremy and his drinking buddies were still probably passed out in the living room; soon to awaken with hangover-induced irritation and aggravation. Elena rubbed her eyes; life truly hated her.

* * *

><p>Feeling her phone vibrate to her side, Elena rose in bed, checking the caller ID: Alec. Elena moaned, but pressed the answer button.<p>

"Hello?" Elena asked groggily into the phone.

"Yeah, hi, Elena. Um, what are you doing today?"

"Sleeping," Elena returned, utterly annoyed.

"Oh, cool. Uh, well, since you're up now, did you maybe want to do something today? There's some new movies out that seem pretty cool…"

"Alec," Elena began, "I—I had a pretty rough night, and I just need to regroup." Elena pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Oh yeah; I heard about your brother's party last night: pretty crazy."

"Yeah," Elena bit out, "so I'll see you around." She waited for Alec to say his desperate goodbye before she hung up. Elena flung her phone to the foot of the bed. Crossing her legs, she knew she had to get up. She tried to tell herself that last night hadn't happened, and that her dream was simply a dream. Of course she knew it was all a lie, but sometimes, a lie is much more comforting than the truth. Crawling from bed, she put on a pair of long pajama pants and tugged a sweatshirt over her head.

* * *

><p>Heading downstairs, she didn't know what to expect. Observing the mess of food and drinks ground into the carpet, and the empty cups and bottles that littered the tables and any other flat surface, Elena could barely stand the look of it. Searching the sea of passed out teenagers; Elena found Jeremy curled in a ball, asleep in the far corner of the living room. Walking slowly to her brother, she'd rather deal with Jeremy's problems than her own.<p>

"Get up," she whispered harshly as she kicked at Jeremy's side; he didn't wake up. "Jeremy," Elena whispered harsher, kicking him with a tad more force. She watched as Jeremy jerked awake, and looked bewilderedly at Elena.

"What the fuck, man," Jeremy grumbled, curling back into his ball.

"No, you're not going back to bed. Do you see this place?" Elena outstretched her hands to signify the entire room's lack of cleanliness. Harping on Jeremy for his crazy night kept her from laboriously obsessing over her own.

"You're too loud, Elena, shut up," Jeremy groaned as he rubbed his head and eyes. "What time is it?"

"Too late for these people to still be here," Elena shot back, crossing her arms. She regretted the movement, because her torn arm screamed with a silent pain that made Elena cringe.

"Jesus, stop trying to be mom," Jeremy rolled onto his stomach to try and avoid Elena's gaze.

"Well, doesn't matter if I'm like her or not. When she gets home, she's going to _kill_ you if it looks like this."

"Fine, I'll get them to leave. Just—leave me alone, will you? You're giving me a headache." Jeremy rubbed at his temples.

"Yeah, it's definitely me causing your headache," Elena said sarcastically, walking to the front door for some air. Closing the door behind her, she felt her haze of dizziness lifted by the crisp air. Sitting on the front steps, Elena gazed out onto her street. For once, she could fully appreciate simplicity and quietness. As she stared, she saw a figure jogging towards the house. Elena's muscles tightened momentarily until she saw the tight pink sweat suit the person was wearing: it wasn't Damon. As the form got closer, she realized it was Caroline Forbes; just her luck.

"Oh hi, Elena," Caroline cooed sarcastically, slowing her pace in an in-place jog. "Nothing like a good hard run. Oh wait, you wouldn't know."

"Oh, ouch, that burns," Elena replied, sarcasm tangible in her voice.

"You never were very nice," Caroline returned, her act of being the victim in full swing.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't call you a saint either," Elena drawled. She was too tired and weak to play Caroline's petty little game.

"Ugh, I'm so lucky that I stopped being friends with you when I did." Caroline flipped her bangs from her eyes.

"Ditto," Elena replied, echoing Caroline's earlier sarcastic cooing. Elena plastered a brilliant smile on her face, and rose from her seat. Caroline just gave her a look of disgust, running on. Elena rolled her eyes as she watched the blonde try and pick up her pace. Only a few houses up the road, Caroline slowed back down to a pace that could be mistaken for a walk.

Losing interest in Caroline's stupidity quickly, Elena began to pace. For some reason, she could not stay still. After experiencing the horror she did last night, Elena expected to be barely able to life her head. Yet, she could not stop from moving. Maybe it was her body's reflex and response to such a traumatic experience, and its way to try and forget the pain.

As she paced, she noticed another figure approaching. Telling herself it was another runner, she boldly stayed outside, finding her seat on the porch steps once more. Elena forced herself not to look at the form coming closer. Glancing quickly, she saw the form was in all black; Elena's heart began to race. What if it was Damon? Was he calling upon her again already? Elena bit her lip; she knew she didn't have the power to say no or to run. But why had this monster targeted her anyway? What was he even? She felt an odd déjà vu from her dream, and she felt sick to her stomach.

Sensing the person's closeness, Elena turned to find Damon sitting on the steps next to her. His eyes were back to their brilliant blue, his face with a vacant smile, and perfectly pale skin; no horrifying streaks of blood.

This was not good.

* * *

><p>Alrighty, so this is simply a filler chapter. With the dream, I have no idea what was going through my mind; I kind of just wrote the first ideas that popped into my head. I probably sound insane. Haha. Anyway, for the next chapter, what kind of torture should it be? I'd love your ideas, dear readers! Thank you for all who reviewed, by the way, it means a lot! Please keep 'em coming. They really do help me.<p>

_Be good and review! _


	8. The Howling

_We've been seeing what you wanted, got us cornered right now.__Fallen asleep from our vanity, might cost us our lives.__I hear they're getting closer; their howls are sending chills down my spine and time is running out now._

-The Howling

Elena wanted to cry. Damon's toxic presence was slowly killing her. Every shallow breath he took was seeping oily into her pores, and she felt herself losing all her remaining strength. What did Damon want from her anyways? She was a shadow—a nobody. She had done nothing to Damon, yet he was punishing her with a fervent hatred. Elena couldn't understand Damon's motives, and to be completely honest, she didn't really want to. Whatever dark desires burned inside of Damon, seemed to be built up over time, and it was through Elena that he lashed out against these feelings. She felt like she was analyzing a psycho maniac: a perfect experiment in a secure room, but deadly when in the real world. Elena knew she was in the latter scenario, and that made her panic even more.

"What do you want from me," Elena shakily asked, not daring to look at Damon. Maybe he'd show her mercy; leave her alone on her porch steps.

"That depends on what you consider 'want' to be." His voice was husky and melodious, but the tight anger was still a looming presence. "Enough talk, get up."

Elena did as she was told, feeling her body buzzing in fear. He wasn't going to let her go. Damon rose from his seat as well, and pushed Elena on the back harshly, to get her to move. Enveloping his tight grip around her forearm, he forcefully guided her down the street.

The houses and trees that were usually so kind and pleasant now seemed to only taunt her. She was being dragged into her own personal hell, and nothing on the sleepy streets even tried to save her. Mystic Falls had failed Elena. She was quite sure it and its inhabitants wouldn't even miss her. Biting her lip, Elena tried desperately to ignore the pain in her forearm: Damon was dangerously close to breaking the bone.

"Tell me something girl, do you like your small little town? If you were… taken from it, would you miss it?" There was no kindness in Damon's voice. Elena was sure that even if she said she'd miss it, he wouldn't let her go.

"I could learn to miss it," Elena feebly returned, clenching her teeth as Damon tightened his grip on her.

"If you were to die, do you think anyone would _truly _miss you?" Damon was enjoying this. Each question he asked, he could see Elena turn even whiter. Although this girl had the fire Amica had possessed, she was easily frightened. The descendents in the past had fought him—hard. Their rebellions had only fueled Damon's dark passion: speeding up the process of their death. Elena though, would be a long and torturous game.

"I—" Elena began to feel tears streaming down her face, and could no longer summon the words she was going to say. Damon certainly had a knack for scaring the hell out of her. How could a man with such intensely beautiful features be so evil? His lips were delicate, yet they touched the darkest of things. Damon's bone structure was perfect, and somehow benevolent; but it always got overpowered by the mask of poison he wore so well. Elena almost felt sorry for her captor. He must have a past—no one is naturally evil enough to kidnap a teenager for twisted physical games.

Damon never replied to Elena, and she was relieved. Talking to him just made the nightmare so much more real. She couldn't deny that she was terrified of Damon: how could she not be? The man seemed more deadly and conniving than Lucifer himself; and was certainly darker than Hades.

* * *

><p>After walking for what seemed like miles, Damon stopped in front of an abandoned inn. The building hadn't been used since the twenties, and it looked it too. The structure was built in the eighteen-nineties: a simple wooden frame, and painted with deep reds and greens. The paint was badly chipped, and cobwebs were abundant in the shattered and cracked windows. The steps leading up to the front door were badly termite eaten, and Elena feared the delicate wood would collapse under her weight. The inn was surrounded by trees with abstract branches, and their trunks seemed almost black. At least it wasn't dark outside: a little bit of sun still peaked through the forming gray clouds.<p>

How did Damon even find this place? No one knew about Olde Harbour Inn except Mystic Falls residences. It was mainly a hangout for the potheads and drinkers, but there had been stories of the place being haunted. Elena had only heard bits and pieces of the myth, but she could not deny the dark spiritual presence around the building. Breathing in deeply, she timidly looked to Damon. He was smirking with a sort of excitement that made Elena want to vomit. He took too much pleasure in these old abandoned buildings and what was to go on inside them.

Tugging at her arms agonizingly harsh, he led Elena up the rickety stairs and to the front door. The crimson was blended with a hint of black it seemed, giving off the darkest of reds Elena had ever seen. She waited in tense anticipation for Damon to open the door. She debated wiggling from his grasp and running as fast as she could, but she somehow knew he would catch her. Elena didn't want to know the punishment she would receive for trying to escape. So, she stayed perfectly still as Damon took hold of the steel handle and shoved the locked door open with ease.

Elena stood frozen as she looked into the shadowy room, and Damon rolled his eyes. Letting go of her forearm finally, he pushed Elena's lower back, and she went flying into the room, landing knees first.

Feeling her kneecaps hit the unforgiving floor; she rolled onto her side, bringing her legs up to her chest. There was a pulsating pain around her knees, and she felt it begin to trickle into her shins. Elena couldn't move: out of shock, out of pain, and out of fear. She wanted so badly to cry, but somehow she felt she'd be penalized for doing so. Why did this have to happen to her?

"Oh stop favoring yourself," Damon said bitterly as he walked into the old inn, closing the door harshly behind him. "It's just a little slam." When Damon had been a child, he was so energetic and full of life. This fast paced personality caused many injuries, and each time he fell, his father would reprimand him for being such a baby. _'Life is full of pain. You'd better get used to it now, or you'll die young and weak'_. Damon could still hear his father's voice clearly in his head. Even after thousands of years, his daddy issues controlled every move he made. The thought made his anger rise even more.

Taking a few steps closer to Elena, he grabbed her pointer finger, and pulled her into an upright position. She was sure the finger was dislocated, and the pain made her momentarily forget about the throbbing hurt in her knees.

Elena sat there numbly, not getting up when Damon directed her to. This infuriated the vampire. Grasping the girl by her shoulders, he lifted her up to her feet, making sure to dig his nails into her skin. The white shirt she wore began to soak up her blood, and Damon smirked.

Taking hold of her wrist, Damon directed her to the far-most corner of the room. Elena hit pieces of furniture as she went. Her hip, her shin, elbow and feet all fell victim to her limited vision in the darkness.

Damon finally stopped, and pushed down on Elena's shoulder until she fell to the ground.

"Against the wall," Damon directed, and Elena felt her way to the wallpaper peeling wall. When her back hit it, Damon lifted one of her arms, and clasped a metal bracelet around her wrist that was chained to the wall. He repeated the process for her other hand. He laughed at how helpless she looked chained to the wall.

"You're sick, you know that?" Elena was seething. She felt like a play toy that could be scrapped at any minute.

"You have no idea, love," Damon whispered into her ear. Trailing a nail along her soft cheek as he got up from beside her, he felt the blood touch his finger. Oh, sweet bliss. Sucking the irony substance from his finger, he sat on the couch positioned right in front of Elena.

"You think that I am the bad guy," Damon began, "but wait until you see what your own mind can do to you. You're a dark girl, Elena… you can go on to do great things." Damon gave her a sly but knowing smirk, and then slithered his way into his victim's head.

_A shadow began to approach Elena, much too slow to have no ulterior motive. Her heart raced painfully in her chest, and she could feel the sweat beads forming all over her body. She tried to get away as the figure came closer, but the damn chains held her in place. She wanted to cry. The unknown had always terrified her, and a shadowy figure certainly fell into that category. _

"_Stop, please, stop. I promise I won't do anything. I've done nothing. Please don't hurt me…" her ramblings sounded almost like a prayer. They were quiet and rushed, and totally based upon faith. She waited for the shadow to reply, but it did no such thing. It simply came silently to her. Elena lifted her eyes to the thing, to see deep red orbs staring back at her. The dark mist had fallen from the creature, and now a white sharp nose and a set of jagged teeth looked back at her. The thing looked like a demented witch that the devil had gotten a hold of. Its breaths were like hisses, and it looked like it wanted to eat the flesh right off of Elena. _

_The girl was too terrified to scream, and when the devilish creature knelt down beside her, she wanted to faint. The witch thing took a handful of long and thin metal rods from god knows where, and showed the shiny weapons to Elena in pleasure. Elena held her breath. Needles and anything resembling them had always scared her. Looking to the creature next to her, she pleaded with her eyes for it to leave her alone. _

_The witch paid no attention to Elena, and slowly took one of the rods from the pile. Bringing it to her forearm, the creature tapped it against one side of Elena's arm. The girl sighed. This wasn't that bad. Then, after once last innocent tap, the creature dug it into Elena's skin, and she watched in horror as it reappeared on the other side. The witch continued the process up her arm, and then went as far up as the top of her shoulder. Elena screeched with each rod that was pierced through her body. Everything was on fire in her arm, and she felt the tears trickle heavily down her face. _

_Elena then heard hisses… and they didn't come from the creature that had moved to the other side of her, and was piercing the rods in her right arm now. Elena looked in front of her, and saw a massive group of snakes approaching her. Their dark little slits for eyes looked at her hungrily, and Elena screamed louder than she ever had before in her life. Snakes were her worst nightmare. Watching as the long scaly things slithered creepily towards her, she no longer really noticed the rods in her arms. Elena began to wiggle uncontrollably, in an attempt to avoid the snakes. The animals quickly anticipated her movements thought, and made their way on top of and all over her. Pretty soon, she was under a layer of hissing serpents, feeling their sharp teeth scrape over her skin. Trying to break the chains, the metal rods though her arms dug into her bones and tendons. There was nothing she could do. All of her worst fears were consuming her. _

_Thinking this was as bad as it could possibly get, she was rudely proven wrong. Hearing quick little sounds against the wooden floor, Elena held her breath: they sounded like bugs. The little legs came scurrying closer. Elena felt the witch remove the converse from her feet and Elena's heart rate quickened. Why the hell would she do that…? Unless, the bugs coming towards her could bite or pinch. Oh god. _

_Elena tried to clench her toes so the bugs couldn't get to them, but she soon felt a very strong and harsh pinch on her big toe…. It was a scorpion. Those bugs had always terrified her. Bugs, needles, snakes… they were all swarming her, and she could not escape. Elena wanted to die. There was no use trying to live through this—what was the point. Moving her wrist closer to one of the snakes she could feel on her chest, its teeth bit deeply into her veins. The pain only lasted momentarily. Soon, she could feel the venom seep thickly into her bloodstream, and she felt as if she was slowly falling into a very deep and permanent slumber… _

Damon let her mind free, and Elena was crying uncontrollably. She could still feel the memory of the snakes slithering over her, and remembered clearly what each rod felt like being shoved into her skin. Elena wished she could forget the scorpions gnawing at her toes, but she could still feel each pinch.

"Wh—why did you… do that… to me," Elena could hardly speak. Lifting her eyes heavily to meet Damon's, she hated him. That was just too cruel… too evil. Even for him.

"Oh, dear, I had nothing to do with it. I just opened your mind—you caused and created the pain." Damon crossed his arms. She was just like Amica. Outwardly good, and desperately trying to make that true internally as well. But Elena and Amica were both just too dark for salvation.

Could it be true? Had she done this to herself? What did that mean? What did that make her?

* * *

><p>Okay, first of all, so sorry for the long wait. I've been very busy with school and life, and have just had no time to write! So, I'm very sorry. Also, this chapter is short—again. Hopefully the torture as still okay? I really hope so!<p>

_Your thoughts are much appreciated. _


	9. Enter Sandman

_Something's wrong, shut the light__, __heavy thoughts tonight;__and they aren't of snow white.__Dreams of war,__dreams of lies__, d__reams of dragon's fire,__and of things that will bite. _

-Enter Sandman

"Please," Elena whimpered, "just let me go…" she knew her words would have no affect on the demon holding her captive, but she figured she'd try anyway; what did she have to lose?

"Aw, now what fun would that be, Elena?" Damon snickered and raised a black eyebrow at his human victim. If he actually had a heart, he'd probably feel bad for Elena in her current state. There were gashes dragged across her face, most of them still dripping tidbits of her blood, and black and blue marks were beginning to form on her arms. None of these battle scars were directly inflicted by Damon. Elena had done this to herself, because of the nightmare he had trapped her in for numerous hours. The thrill the vampire had gotten from watching her destructive terror was still pulsating through his dead body.

"You're a sick bastard," she muttered bitterly in reply, too frozen in pain to turn her head away from Damon. Elena's hair was matted, annoyingly clinging to her neck with sweat. The brown locks were no longer their usual straight, but rather the tight curls she always tried to hide with a straightener. She'd given up on understanding why Damon had such a torturous death wish for her, but at the same time was very far from accepting his actions.

"Ouch, that can really hurt such a _benevolent _man, such as myself." His lips curled into a viciously wicked grin, and his bright blue eyes darkened to an almost pitch black. He was truly the devil in Elena's mind, and the house she was locked in was more akin to a dreary castle of sadistic intentions, fueled by the blood of the victims. Elena wanted to cry, but she was too badly aching to even move her face from its limp position.

"You are the farthest thing from that, and you know it," she seethed, and clenched her jaw tightly.

"Oh, get off of your high horse, Elena," Damon drawled, "there's no definite line between good and evil. The view of what action constitutes as good or evil is left up to interpretation. Your view obviously differs greatly from mine."

"Then explain it to me," Elena returned softly, "tell me how in the world what you're doing to me is good. I want to understand. How is torturing someone _not _evil?" Elena lifted her head to get a better view of Damon's face. There was no solid emotion on his face, just a jumbled mess of feelings that seemed to be internalized for millenniums.

Damon sighed. This girl was going to be the death of him, and he knew it. But was that necessarily a bad thing? _Of course it was. _For centuries, he had embodied everything that his father hadn't wanted him to be. He was a ruthless killer, full of lust, and envy, and hate—he was not the good little soldier his father had raised him to be. Maybe it was finally time to return to the old ways; to what his father would have wanted him to be. There was something in Elena's eyes that was different than what the other descendents of Amica had had. There wasn't solely fear, or disgust, or even resentment; Elena seemed to care. Care about his reasons, his intentions, and maybe even deep down, Elena even cared about _him_.

"You wouldn't understand," he muttered, more softly than he had ever spoken in years. Damon felt dangerously close to being human, but he couldn't be positive about that. It had been so long since he had let the human instinct and nature he still possessed to show through. He had suffocated it for the sake of his reputation; for his safety; for Klaus. But had he done it for himself? The obvious answer was no. In repelling the human inside of him, Damon had tortured himself for hundreds upon thousands of years, for what? A few cries of terror, and a few mentions in girls' slumber party horror stories? It sickened him.

"You have to give me something," Elena replied in tense simplicity. She knew Damon was capable of very dark and malicious actions, but she believed everyone had the right to prove themselves; even Damon.

"I don't have to give you _anything_," Damon shot back in reply, rising from his seat and beginning to pace around Elena. Fire seething in his chest, and oily sadism dripping from his long since shriveled veins; he whipped his pale face in the girl's direction.

Elena opted out of a reply, and tried her best to look at everything but Damon.

"So now you won't even look at me?" He asked her darkly, "you really are a hypocrite." Walking up closely to Elena, he knelt down with the power of his legs, and his evil eyes hovered around her face. Her tears glistened, even with the very minimal light in the room, and Damon wanted to tear the sweet innocence right from Elena's heart. Staring at her intensely, he raised a hand whipped it across Elena's face.

The burn was terribly painful; it was a searing freeze on her skin that Elena could not even begin to describe. Damon hadn't held back, and used his inhuman strength to its fullest. Elena was almost positive she was bleeding. What kind of slap could make someone bleed? Elena didn't even want to know.

"_Never_ do that again," Damon hissed, and left Elena alone, still chained to the wall, and still bleeding from numerous places on her body.

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><p>Again I apologize for being so sporadic with these updates. My inspiration comes and goes with it. So I really need ideas! Also, I've been kind of disheartened by how few reviews I've been getting. I hate to try to convince people to submit feedback, but I really do need it. So please, take a quick moment and tell me what you think… I really do appreciate it.<p>

_Be good and review_


	10. Some Kind of Monster

_These are the ears that ring with hate__. __This is the face that'll never change__. __This is the fist that grinds you down__. __This is the voice of silence no more. _

-Some Kind of Monster

Damon seethed in the secluded upstairs room of the old house, with not a single thought of mercy passing through his rabid mind. The centuries of numbness had only known the companion of hate, and it never liked a new playmate; it was mutilated and dead before the night was over. The blackness seemed to rid Damon's body of every foreign invader that did not fit the sadistic and survivalist profile it expected for success—and kindness was always the first to be killed off. He wondered how long it would be this time, before he was drained of all feelings akin to pleasure. The process had already started; it wouldn't be long now.

It had been exactly three hours and ten minutes since he had stormed out of Elena's presence. Her crime was not severe in the eyes of most humans—she had wanted to care for him. In terms of vampires, make him human. Damon could never allow that, no matter how much his insides screamed for it. He was a prisoner of his own conscience, forced to believe in a set of ethics not even the most twisted of people could follow. Damon was a wreck. In all of his centuries, it had only happened once: right when he had first turned.

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><p><em>The hunting grounds had always been pleasant during the early March season. Flowers were budding, supplying illuminating hues of blues, pinks, yellows, and whites for the passing traveler to notice with awe. The sweetly seductive plants had always been Damon's secret passion. He had given each color of elegant flower its own special name, and he was careful never to mix them up. His secret little gods would not like the inconsiderate gesture. <em>

_In Damon's mind, the precious plants held the powers of the springtime. They could strip away the benevolent weather and successful harvesting just as easily as they had placed them in humanity's hands. The flowers had quite a temper. _

_The blue flower Aquila possessed the power of the rains. This was Damon's most cherished beauty. Thunder, lightening, and all that it implied had always left him awestricken, wondering how the tiny creature was able to formulate such a misty gray sky. _

_Looking down to the little blue hued flower beside him, it seemed to be encouraging him to ask it his questions. He knew it was impossible, though. He'd tried many a time to speak to the flowers he so worshipped, but their only reply had been their pedals rustling in the warm breeze. _

_The flower colored pink, Aulus, was the controller of sunrise and sunset. Damon could not help but show undying respect for the innocently hued creature. It was she that dictated how the world worked, and how much time was alluded to day and night. He quite loved when she decided to prolong the day, because that was his favorite time to reflect. Damon had never worked well in the nighttime. Whether it was a subconscious stress, or fear of the unknown, Damon still could not decide. But, he always breathed a sigh of relief when Aulus showed mercy on his heavy soul. _

_The yellow flower Decima held the mystical magic of the sun. Whether she sometimes made it too hot or not, had little effect on Damon's image of her. She was the master ruler of the spring, allowing everything to flourish below her brilliant colors of yellows and oranges. It was Decima who gave life to the world. The least Damon could do in return was to pay her a daily homage, thanking the brilliant yellow goddess for all that she had provided. _

_The white flower Lucia was the reminder of winter. She was certainly the darkest of all her flower-mates, but also the most feared. She was the one that held all of the wrath; all of the suffering. Damon had never liked winter. The bitterer climate and shorter days had done nothing but pain him. But alas, he still felt compelled to love Lucia; in some ways, more than any of the other flowers. He'd learned from her that fear was the one to pull in the most discipline. And if one was to try hard enough, they could even terrorize people to bear the powerful feelings of love and respect for them. Yes, Lucia was a wicked one. _

_But this spring, the flowers meant nothing; they had little to no purpose for Damon. The province was dying, of some terrible sickness. The god of death Pluto was obviously very displeased with the city of Ravenna, and had unleashed a nasty spell of death no one could seem to fight against. _

_Except Damon. _

_He had been coughed on, bled on, cried on, yet there were still no terrible symptoms coming his way. If anything, he would have expected to have the severest blow of the illness. Indeed, he had worshipped his nature friends over the gods ruled by Jupiter and Juno. He would have expected the pair to sic their greatest weapon of Pluto on him, but instead they seemed to show him intense mercy. _

_When the sickness struck, instead of seeing massive welts filled with thick, gooey, yellowish pus, and being clouted with massive fevers, he started to feel his senses heighten. Every noise had become agonizingly loud, and there was nothing he could do to silence the obnoxious tree branches twitching about a mile or so away. _

_Even from the secluded grounds, he could smell the food being prepared for the townspeople's meals. Since the wicked disease had struck, the daily pottage had become more and more watered down, until it only consisted of a scarce amount of wheat or millet. The luxurious sauces were gone; there were no vegetables to add, since hardly anyone was strong enough to grow them; there was no meat to add to the mixture—most had died of starvation._

_How could such a bustling and growing city fall to its knees in such a rapid harshness? _

_Worst of all, Damon could only watch. He was not a Healer, and he did not know the ways of the dark arts. All he knew was how to handle a knife or sword lethally, and how to obey a general's orders without wincing at the screams barked into his ears. _

_He'd always considered those skills a great accomplishment. _

_But when society collapsed, how well one could handle a knife against an opponent became obsolete. People were in dire need of people who could save them; people who could feed them. _

_Damon had never been good at either. His father had taught him to be a destroyer; a killer of the enemy. He had always been showered with gifts of food from those around him, so he hadn't the slightest clue about how to plant a seed; bake a loaf of bread; milk a cow for dairy. He could kill some game. A hare possibly, or even a squirrel or deer. But that was where his helpful skills ended. _

"_Master Damon," he heard the servant Klaus call timidly. Damon hadn't quite figured out why, but the savage British boy had always been terrified of him. Turning around to face the man, he shot a hard and dead stare in the servant's direction. The bolder pace Klaus had begun to pick up slowed dramatically, and he bowed his head. "Dinner is almost prepared." _

"_Let them have it," was his icy and numb reply. "They need it more than I do." _

_He was referring to his parents. Vibia and Quintus had been nothing special of a couple. Both from upper class families, they were guaranteed a comfortable living condition, with free and easy access to the luxuries held by the senators and emperor himself. _

_Vibia had always been a kind soul. She rarely ever raised her voice. And when she did, it was when someone asked her to speak louder. A loyal and devout mother and wife, she was all anyone could ask for. _

_Damon had always wished that he'd turned out more like his mother. He wanted the love of those around him… and he wanted it to be genuine. But alas, it was only a vague hope. He was his father in every way possible. _

_Quintus was a stern force; a brute of a man, really. He could give someone a scar just by looking at them intensely enough. He gained his respect by the warrior getup he wore around like a trophy, and gained the love by the amount of extra dollars he spent on goods and food; but mostly his cherished wine. The red liquid was probably still warmer than the blood that circulated in sheets of ice through his veins. He was the man everyone secretly despised, but were told to love. Quintus had passed down that evil curse to his son. He was a wondrous warrior, strong and determined on a battlefield. But the second he touched ground on the homefront, all those rules and way of life changed. That reality was something Quintus had never been too talented at accepting._

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><p>Damn them all, Damon thought as he picked at the skin on his lifeless fingers. He was not that boy anymore; sometimes he wondered if he ever really was. The flowers could all die; every last one of them. Alive or dead, spring would never come again for Damon.<p>

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><p>I suck at updating; end of story. I know an apology will not make up for the fact that these updates are so sparse. But still, I am really sorry. The school year has slowed down a lot though, so expect much quicker updates! Please still give me your thoughts though; I really do need them. <em>Also, for any fans of Supernatural (andor Vampire Diaries) I have a new crossover story called "Evil Never Loved You". _Please consider checking it out, and telling me what you think.

_Be good and review _


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